


After the After

by NotALemon



Category: Looking for Alaska - John Green
Genre: Attempts To Write In John Green's Style, Bisexual Chip Martin, Bisexual Miles Halter, But Like... John Green-Level Sex, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Hormonal Teens Going At It, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, It Happens On Page But There's No Description, M/M, McDonald's Date, Or At Least It's Supposed to be But SOME PEOPLE Can't Keep Their Relationship a Secret, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Relationship, Sex, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: Things happen when you leave two emotionally damaged, hormonal teenagers together to get over the death of their friend.(Or: 12,000 words of Pudge and the Colonel's budding relationship post-After.)
Relationships: Miles "Pudge" Halter/Chip "The Colonel" Martin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	After the After

Life is funny, sometimes. Lots of things happen that you don’t think will happen, or things that you think should happen don’t. 

When Alaska died, I knew my life was going to change. I didn’t know how, but I knew it was going to happen. The labyrinth, the Great Perhaps- it was happening right there, and the Colonel and I were left to death with understanding the aftermath. 

After everything that happened last year, we weren’t exactly the most stable people. He’d walked miles in the Alabama cold, just to end up curled up in my bottom bunk bed with me to keep him warm, and I’d become more obsessed with Alaska than Before. 

Things happen when you leave two emotionally damaged, hormonal teenagers together to get over the death of their friend. Namely, what’s happening right now. 

I haven’t seen the Colonel since summer began. When his mom was gone, and my parents had left, misty-eyed, making me promise to call them more often, and we’d moved the couch and COFFEE TABLE to the room, we went at it on the mostly-foam-partially-sofa, teeth and tongue and his hands in my hair. It feels good. 

It’s happened a couple times before then, before the end of last semester, when we couldn’t stand the tension anymore and needed a way to get rid of the emotions we’d built up. It didn’t go any further than making out after exams. I can’t tell if the weird feeling now is from not having made out with anyone all summer or because something has changed. 

“What are you thinking, Pudge?” The Colonel holds my face tightly, like he’s scared I’m going to disappear, too. I understand that: the last person I’d kissed (other than him) ran off and died/committed suicide. 

“I missed you,” I say. There’s a lot more than that, but I don’t want to tell him. 

“You’re full of shit, Pudge,” the Colonel says. 

“Just kiss me.” I climb into his lap and let his hands wonder my skinny body. It feels more like curiosity than anything serious, but the way things were progressing, I wouldn’t be surprised if it became something else soon. The door’s closed (rules don’t apply to roommates), the room is at Alabama-level sweltering, and the Colonel’s lap is surprisingly comfortable. 

I think: _Am I about to lose my virginity on the couch?_

I think: _Am I about to lose my virginity to the Colonel?_

I think: _Are those footsteps?_

I say: “Are those footsteps?” 

The Colonel’s eyes widen, and he throws me off his lap. For a couch that’s mostly foam, it can be surprisingly painful when you’re thrown into it like a projectile. 

The door opens, and in comes the Eagle. He really does have a sixth sense purely for detecting trouble, or, in this case, boners. “Welcome back, gentlemen,” he says. 

“Um,” I say. The Colonel shoves me. 

“Nice to see you again, sir,” the Colonel says, turning up the southern charm to become a gentleman who didn’t just have his tongue down his roommate’s throat, no sir. 

“I take it you had a good summer?” 

“Yes,” I say. 

“Good as it could be.” 

“I hope we won’t have any problems this year.” There’s the Look of Doom. Alaska once said he loved the students, but he loved the Creek more. I understand that every time I see the Look of Doom, all over again. 

The Colonel grins. “None at all, sir,” he says. 

“Good.” The Eagle’s face softens a little, the Look of Doom disappearing. Yeah, he does love the Creek, but he still loves the students here, too. “Have a good year, boys.” 

“Yes, sir,” I say. 

“Will do, sir,” the Colonel says. 

The Eagle leaves. That’s one thing I appreciate about him: he knows when to end a meeting. Of course, that doesn’t mean that his boner-killing capabilities aren’t perfect. Nothing ruins the mood like being walked in on by the scariest man on campus. 

“Jesus, that was close,” the Colonel says. “Good thing you have supersonic hearing.” 

“Yeah,” I say. 

“You know, we can get back to-” the Colonel scratches the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. 

“Um,” I say. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The Colonel gets off the sofa, stretching. “We should probably keep the making out to a minimum. During the day.” 

“Okay,” I say, thinking about _during the day_. Does that mean that night makeouts are acceptable? Night makeouts are probably more likely to lead to other things that happen at night, in beds. And, despite that one blowjob from Lara and hooking up with Alaska, I still don't have a whole lot of sexual experience.

“The Eagle’ll move us to different rooms if he knows we’re- doing stuff,” the Colonel says. I know he’s right, but I don’t want to agree with him, simply because I don’t want to think about _not_ living in the same room as the Colonel at the Creek. “You’re a decent kisser, Pudge,” the Colonel says. 

“Thanks,” I say. Then, because it’s true: “You’re good, too.” 

“Damn right.” The Colonel grins at me again, then turns to my world map. “We got a couple hours before it’s night. You wanna find Takumi?” 

-|-

That night, we make out horizontally on the bottom bunk. I’m the one on top of the Colonel, limbs arranged at weird angles for maximum grinding potential. This is something we’ve never done before. The closest I’ve ever gotten to this was when I “hooked up” with Alaska before she-

I pull away from the Colonel. He sits up a little. “You got that look in your eyes,” he says. 

“Sorry. The last person I did this with… you know.” I still hate saying _died_ when talking about Alaska, even After everything, even though it’s true. 

“I know,” the Colonel says. He sighs and rubs his face. “Guess we gotta talk ‘bout that, huh?” 

I want to shake my head and continue making out. Making out doesn’t involve talking about your dead friend, just bodies and tongues. It’s easier. 

Nothing’s ever easy. Not anymore. 

“I’m not gonna leave,” the Colonel says. “If we can get through that shit, then we can get through anything.” 

“I think this is a whole new ‘anything’,” I say. 

The Colonel looks away from my face, into the darkness of the room. He’s probably squinting at my world map, mentally reciting capitals of small African nations, or whatever he does when I’m being difficult. 

“Yeah,” he says, finally. “It is.” 

“Uncharted territory,” I say. 

“I’m not exactly ‘uncharted territory’, Pudge.” 

It’s my turn to look away from him, because, for the most part, _I_ am. One blowjob, one almost-hookup, and desperately grinding against my roommate while making out. Not exactly well-travelled. 

“Is _this_ uncharted territory?” Something stupid, deep inside me, wants to know if he’s ever done this with any guys, or if I’m the first. Maybe it’s the same thing I felt when Lara gave me that first blowjob. There’s something nice about being the first. Then again, there’s also something nice about having someone experienced. Hooking up with Alaska was nice. She knew what she was doing.

“God, Pudge. Is _that_ what you’re concerned about?” 

It really isn’t. I think I’m focusing on it because it means I don’t have to ask/be asked the important questions. You know, all the _what are we?_ s and other things you ask when you start making out with your roommate. 

“Yes,” the Colonel says, after a minute. “It is.” 

“Oh,” I say, not sure how to reply. Then: “Me, too.” 

“I assumed,” the Colonel says. 

I swallow, finally looking down at him again. There’s something nice about his sturdy face. It feels… stable. If Alaska were here and knew what I was thinking, she’d laugh at me and call me sappy. Alaska would’ve known what to do in this situation, even if it was just pat me on the back too hard and say “little Pudge’s all grown up!”. 

“We don’t have to,” the Colonel says, assuming my silence is related to a gay crisis. “Not now. Not ever, if you don’t wanna.” 

I shake my head. “I want to,” I say, determined not to lose another person. Being in the same place as I was with Alaska (not physically, but situationally) gives me the ability to fix the mistakes I made with her, though I wouldn’t call anything we did as a “mistake”. The mistake was letting her go. The mistake was pushing her away. The mistake was not doing what I needed to. I’m not going to make those mistakes again with the Colonel. I can’t afford to lose him. 

“Just not right now,” the Colonel finishes. 

I nod. 

“Just making out is fine with me,” the Colonel says. 

“I like that part,” I say. 

“Maybe we should sit up to do that, though.” The Colonel dislodges me from on top of him. “Wanna make out?” 

“Sure,” I say. 

He drags me over to the sofa (good, old, dependable, mostly-foam sofa) and pulls me into his lap again. “Better?” 

I nod again. 

“Great,” he says, then pulls me close. 

-|- 

The days before the semester begins are filled with making out, smoking by the pond, making out some more, smoking in the Smoking Hole, making out there, racing cars, grinding on the couch, and making out even more. It’s nice to have something that isn’t described by death and bad memories. It’s just us living like hedonists. I think of the Old Man’s religion class, how all religions have a concept of life, death, sin, suffering, and think about what comes after all that. Heaven, Hell, Nirvana, whatever you call it, there’s always something that comes after everything. 

There was Before and After what happened last semester. But it doesn’t feel like After anymore. It feels like after that After, like something completely new. Life after death. Reincarnation. Call it whatever it is. This feels new, and not just because it hasn’t lost its novelty. 

Wherever Alaska is, Heaven, Hell, or rotting in the ground in Vine Station, I bet she’s smiling at us. “Finally getting over me?” she’d say. “Good for you, Pudge.” 

I don’t say this to the Colonel. All I do is grind down on him harder and tell him to pull my hair. 

-|- 

Takumi’s sitting with us at the Smoking Hole, casually smoking a cigarette and watching the Colonel and me. 

“Are we gonna talk about it?” 

The Colonel squints at him. “Talk ‘bout what?” 

“Whatever’s going on between you two.” 

I almost inhale my cigarette instead of the smoke, and start coughing. 

“Jesus, Takumi. Are you trying to kill Pudge?” The Colonel thumps my back. 

“Damn,” Takumi says, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I was right.” 

When I’m done coughing out my respiratory system, no thanks to the Colonel banging my back so hard he almost breaks my spine, I look up at Takumi with watery eyes. 

“It’s-” I start, almost saying _nothing_ before I look at the Colonel. There’s something in his eyes that keeps me from saying that _nothing_. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve fallen asleep in his arms every night since our arrival at the Creek. Maybe it’s because I kept trying to force a “nothing” into “something” all last year, and now that I might finally have a “something”, I can’t bring myself to make it a “nothing”. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve lied to Takumi enough in my life. 

“Takumi, you’re not a rat,” the Colonel confirms. 

“God, no,” Takumi says, still watching us. 

The Colonel looks at me. I hold his gaze. 

“Yes,” I say. “There’s something between us.” 

“Uh, duh,” Takumi says. He finishes his cigarette and stomps it out into last fall’s leaves. “It doesn’t take a genius to understand.” 

I look down at my shoes, not wanting to look Takumi _or_ the Colonel in the eyes. 

“Pudge and I- we’re…” the Colonel bumps my shoulder with his. 

I didn’t want to define it before, because the last time I defined something (or tried to define something), it ended in disaster. Lara got her heart broken, Alaska died. I’m hesitant to do anything. Guess that’s why the Colonel initiates everything we do. He’s not afraid to do things just because of what happened in the past. 

I say the most non-definitive thing I can think of: “A thing.” 

“Again, duh.” 

I look up at Takumi, then the Colonel. 

“We’re working on it,” the Colonel says. 

“As long as you’re not gonna kick his heart in the ass, I’m okay with it.” Takumi leans back in his plastic chair, looking up at the blue sky. “But if this is gonna be another Alaska-Lara thing…” 

“It isn’t,” I say, immediately. The Colonel rests his hand on top of mine. It’s the least sexual one of our interactions has been since we got to the Creek. 

Takumi looks down from the heavens to give us a thorough look Alaska would’ve been proud of. Hell, even the Eagle would probably approve. “Okay,” he says. “Try not to fuck in front of me, though. For my sake.” 

“Jealous you’re single?” 

“As if. I get more than you ever will.” 

The Colonel laughs. “Whatever you say. Do you have a girlfriend in Canada, too?” 

Takumi shakes his head. “How do you put up with him every day?” 

I look at the Colonel, thinking about what it was like last year, then what it’s been like this year. “It isn’t hard.” 

“No, but you know what it.” 

Takumi stands from his chair. “See, this’s what I meant. I’m leaving before hands go places no hand should go in good company.” 

“You think you’re good company?” 

Takumi flips us off and walks away. The Colonel smokes his cigarette in the smuggest way I’ve ever seen anyone smoke, pushing my back into the dirt afterwards and feeling me up, right in the Smoking Hole, somewhere the Eagle has caught us smoking multiple times. Maybe it’s the excitement that gets me off, or the fear of getting caught that makes it so much better. It’s like all the pranks we’ve ever done, except there is no joke, unless the joke is how fast I come in my pants. 

“Your o-face is hot,” the Colonel says, reaching his hand into his own pants to finish himself. I’ve never seen anyone jack off to me before, but I suddenly want to see him do it all the time. 

“Oh,” I say. Then: “Are you sure you don’t want me to-?” 

“Not yet,” the Colonel says. “Maybe later.” 

“To be continued,” Alaska’d said. 

My hands shake, but I put them on him anyways, one hand on his butt, one on the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine. He comes, not as fast as me, and lays down on top of me, his face against my neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes into my neck. 

“Just Miles,” I say. 

He laughs against my skin. “Asshole,” he says. 

I kiss his temple and rub up his back. “We should probably leave before the Eagle-” 

“Stop ruining my afterglow,” the Colonel mumbles. 

“If we get caught, we can’t keep doing this.” 

The Colonel pushes himself off me. “God _damn_ , you just gotta ruin this for me.” He stands, offering me a hand and almost pulling my arm out of my socket when I take it. “Guess we gotta shower, huh?” 

My mind focuses on “we” and “shower”. “Like… together?” 

The Colonel glances at me. “D’you wanna?” 

“I don’t know,” I say. 

“Uncharted territory,” the Colonel says, leaning his forehead against mine. Our sweat mingles, which would be gross, if it weren’t for the fact we just both came in our pants.

“Yeah,” I agree. Then, because I remember he said it to me: “Your o-face is hot, too.” 

The Colonel shakes his head. “Save that for the room.” 

-|-

We make out a lot. A _lot_. I guess that’s what happens when 1. You’re living with the man you’re kissing, 2. You’re both hormonal teenagers, and 3. You don’t have anything better to do until the semester begins. So, yeah, we make out a lot. The Colonel may be small and stocky, but that doesn’t stop him from hauling me into his lap for makeout sessions all the time. I guess it’d be kinda funny to look at, all five foot and nothing of the Colonel with me in his lap. I have to bend my back to get a good angle, and he has to tilt his head up, but the novelty of having someone to make out with whenever I want is way too nice to think about how stupid we look. 

“Oh God,” Takumi says, slamming the door shut behind him. “I told you guys not to fuck in front of me.” 

“Learn to knock, you chicken-fried fuck,” the Colonel says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Learn to listen.” Takumi flops down on the arm of the sofa, then springs up. “Wait. Tell me you haven’t fucked here. _Please_.” 

The Colonel rolls his eyes. “Relax, Takumi. The foam is pure.” 

“Good, ‘cuz I’m not sitting anywhere you guys’ve fucked.” 

“Stay away from the shower,” I advise, still in the Colonel’s lap. The Colonel snorts with laughter. 

Takumi cringes. “God, Pudge. I _was_ in a good mood today.” 

The Colonel laughs again. He must be in a good mood. I move off his lap and to his side. He wraps his arm around my waist. “Sorry,” I say. 

“No, you’re not.” Takumi covers his eyes. “I wanted a smoke, but I’ll wait ‘til I can get to the Smoking Hole now. _God_.” 

“Maybe you can join us next time,” the Colonel says. Then: “God _damn_ , you’re boney, Pudge.” 

“Have you seen the man? There’s nothing there.” 

“Thanks,” I say, shouldering the Colonel in retaliation. He covers the spot with his hand. 

“It’s pretty sexy, anyways. Makes you easier to carry.” The Colonel turns to kiss me, hand sliding from my waist to grab my butt, using that to haul me into his lap. I gasp into his mouth, which he takes advantage of slide my tongue into my mouth. 

“Guys,” Takumi says, “I’m sitting right here. Get a room.” 

“Guess where we are, Takumi,” the Colonel says. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in front of Takumi,” I say. “For the purity of his eyes or something.” It’s a mostly-selfish reason, because I don’t want Takumi to know what my o-face looks like, even if the Colonel thinks it’s hot. I think he lied about it being hot, anyways. 

Takumi stares blankly at me, seeing through my bullshit. “Thanks,” he says. 

“Can’t a man make out with his roommate in their own room?” 

“You guys gotta start being more subtle,” Takumi says. “The Eagle’s gonna flip if he finds you guys tonguefucking. Or fucking-fucking. You think he’s bad about smoking? Just wait til you’re caught in the act.” 

The horny part of my brain doesn’t want to listen to Takumi, but I know he’s right. 

“Damn,” the Colonel says. “I need a cigarette.” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” Takumi says. “I’m gonna take some of yours, ‘cuz you scarred my innocent eyes.” 

“‘Innocent’ my ass,” the Colonel mumbles. “ _You_ owe _us_. We were gonna get it on, and you ruined the mood.” 

Takumi shakes his head. “I didn’t need that picture.” 

The Colonel makes a blowjob gesture. 

I smack his arm and cover my face. “He doesn’t need the details,” I say. 

“Yeah. Spare me the details.” 

“Gotta rub it in. Poor, single Takumi.” The Colonel kisses me real quick. 

My mind isn’t on the kiss, and it isn’t on the sex anymore (if grinding and handjobs can be considered sex). It’s on the word “single”. Calling Takumi “single” implies that he, the Colonel, is not single, which implies that _I_ am not single, which implies that we are dating. Which. I wouldn’t mind. And by “wouldn’t mind”, I mean really, really like. 

“You owe me a smoke,” Takumi deadpans, holding out his hand. The Colonel tosses him a cigarette anyways. “See? It’s not too hard.” 

“Hard?” 

“God,” Takumi groans. “Let’s go before you do get it on in front of me.” 

“Hm. Tempting.” The Colonel stands anyways, taking me with him. He was right about being able to carry me. I’m just skin and bones, not a single ounce of fat or muscle on me, and the Colonel’s stocky build means he can move me anywhere he likes. Or anywhere _I_ like. I’m more than ready to test this out, just not right here and now. 

Culver Creek isn’t exactly the greatest place to be the Colonel, or be associated with the Colonel (ie, the time I almost got murdered my first night here), and I really don’t think the Creek is the kinda place you should hold hands with your roommate/lover at. Anyways, the Eagle wouldn’t want a sexually active couple sharing a room, gay or straight, and I still don’t particularly enjoy the thought of having to switch roommates because the Eagle found out the Colonel and I have been having sex. 

After the last time we went to the Smoking Hole with Takumi, I can’t stop thinking about the Colonel on top of me, grinding down and then sliding his hand down his pants afterwards. Takumi doesn’t have to know what happened. If he knows we "defiled" one of the few places he thought was safe… well, it isn't going to he pretty, at the very least.

Takumi lights his cigarette. “It’s weird,” he says. “You guys dating.” 

“That’s homophobic, Takumi.” I shove him, and not in the same way the Colonel likes to shove me around. I pointedly ignore the word “dating”. 

“Nah, Takumi’s not homophobic.” The Colonel takes another cigarette out the pack and lights it off the end of his own, handing it to me. 

“You’d say that.” Takumi blows the Colonel a smoke-filled kiss. 

The Colonel waggles his eyebrows at Takumi. “Too bad I’m taken. You’ve missed your opportunity.” 

The Colonel using “single” and “taken” is his version of making a move. He’s made all the moves in our budding relationship: he facilitated the first cuddle, he leaned in for the first kiss, he pushed me into the wet dirt of the Smoking Hole, he said he’s “taken”. So we’re dating. 

Takumi takes my silence as confusion instead of thoughtful pondering. “Don’t worry, Pudge. I’m not gonna steal your man.” 

“You couldn’t handle me,” the Colonel says. 

“What, Pudge can?” 

“Yup.” The Colonel leans over to kiss me. I try to keep it brief, not wanting to have more boner-inducing memories of the Smoking Hole. If this keeps up, I’m going to get hard anytime I smell cigarette smoke. 

“I didn’t know you guys…” I say, when the Colonel finishes kissing me. The words "uncharted territory" come back to me. What _did_ he do with Takumi? What are _we_ doing that _they_ didn't do?

“Nah,” the Colonel says. “We didn’t date or nothing. Takumi’s cute, but not my type.” 

“You mean 'not gay'. I’m everyone’s type.” 

“Sure.” The Colonel rubs his thumb against my side and gives me a _can you believe this guy?_ look. “Anyways, we got drunk Sophomore year and made out.” 

“Like it only happened once,” Takumi says. “I’m irresistible.” 

“And that’s the story of how I realized I was bisexual.” 

“Oh,” I say, disappointed I wasn’t the only man the Colonel had ever made out with. So _that_ part wasn't uncharted territory.

“Don’t worry, Pudge. You’re still the only man I’ve slept with.” 

Takumi coughs on a cloud of smoke. “Man, I _don’t_ need to hear that.”

“You talk about all the girls you’ve been with,” I point out. 

“Get him, Pudge.” The Colonel’s hand goes to rub at my skinny thigh. 

“Yeah, but you don’t know any of ‘em. You guys’re my friends. I don’t need to know everything you’ve done.” 

The Colonel puts out his cigarette butt and tosses it into the leaves, stomping on it. “If you wanna know, then you should know how good Pudge is with his-” 

“Stop it,” Tankumi whines. 

“Just ‘cuz Pudge’s a twig doesn’t mean his-” 

“Shut up!” 

“- big, ‘cuz it is, and it’s great, ‘cuz it kinda has a-” 

“MY INNOCENT VIRGIN EARS!” Takumi yells. 

The Colonel laughs. “Come on, Takumi. It’s just a guy talk.” 

I want to disappear into the leaves with the cigarette butts and mud. The last time someone talked about my penis with another person, I got Blowjob 101 from Dr. Young and her teaching assistant, Crest Complete. I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping me from dying is the Colonel’s hand on my thigh. 

“You’re killing your boyfriend.” 

“You know what really kills Pudge?” 

Takumi puts out his cigarette. “I’m leaving.” 

“This’s fun,” the Colonel says. I lay my head on his shoulder, the closest I can get to melting. 

“You’re so short,” I complain, knowing my neck will hurt from having to bend it and not exactly caring. 

“I think you’re just too damn tall,” the Colonel complains back. 

“I think you guys are gross.” 

The Colonel flips Takumi off. “You don’t have to hang out with us.” 

“Damn. I bless you with my presence, and you do this to me? I feel unappreciated.” Takumi leans against the Colonel’s other side. “Where’s _my_ kiss, huh? I’m being neglected.” 

“You had your chance.” The Colonel’s hand moves higher on my thigh. There’s two layers between the Colonel’s hand and my bare skin: my boxers, my basketball shorts. I almost crawl into his lap again. 

“Not even one?” 

“Stop trying to take my boyfriend from me,” I say, deciding that if the Colonel and Takumi can use the b-word, so can I. I finish my cigarette. The Colonel kisses my cheek. 

“See? I gotta keep my priorities straight. Can’t risk Pudge getting pissed at me. The sex’s too good.” 

I’ve never told the Colonel about him being my first, but he knows. He knows everything: Lara and the blowjob, “hooking up” with Alaska, our first time in the Smoking Hole. We haven’t even gone all the way yet, but he thinks the sex is good enough to brag about. 

“I gotta get a girlfriend,” Takumi says. 

The Colonel laughs at him, inching his hand further up my thigh. 

-|-

In the safety of our room a couple days later, I sit close to the Colonel on the sofa so we can race cars, trying to figure out how to talk to him about the b-word.

He pauses the game. 

“What is it?” He says, sounding like he’s in a mood. 

“I didn’t know we were-” I cut myself off. “Nothing.” 

“You didn’t know we were dating?” The Colonel holds his controller tight. 

I stare down at my controller. “Forget I said anything, okay?” 

“That’s kinda serious, isn’t it?” The Colonel glares at me. Well, it might not be a glare, but it’s disapproving, either way. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to date me.” 

“Why else would I be sleeping with you? What’d you want, an engraved invitation?” The Colonel throws his controller to the side. “Yeah, I’ll give you an invitation. Hand-written and signed. ‘Dearest Pudge, would you please be my boyfriend? Signed, your beloved bitch, the Colonel’.” 

I can’t stop myself from cracking a smile, even though I’m pissed that he’s pissed for no reason. It’s like Alaska all over again, him getting mad for no reason. 

“Jesus, what do I have to do for a yes?” 

“Yes,” I say, still pissed. “It would’ve been nice to know before Takumi did.” 

The Colonel shoves me. “I thought you knew what we were doing. _I_ don't sleep with people unless I-" he stops himself, glaring at the controller in his hands.

Maybe it’s still After. There’s no proof of reincarnation, not proof of life after death. We’re keeping Alaska alive, but out of selfishness, not respect. Whatever the Colonel and I are doing- it isn’t because I love him, or because we want the best for each other. It’s because we can’t get over Alaska. 

The Colonel had once said that he and Sara deserved each other because they were both bad people. And maybe that’s why we deserve each other: because we’re using each other. It makes sense. 

“You’re an asshole,” I grit through my teeth. It’s just like last year, where we hated each other for what we did After. 

“You’re an asshole, too,” the Colonel says, voice growing louder. “ _Why_ are you so damn pissy all the damn time?” 

“Why do _you_ get to be a moody asshole, but I don’t?” 

The Colonel stands. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t pissed the fuck off ‘cuz I missed the dating memo.” 

“You didn’t even ask me!” 

“I thought you knew!” The Colonel balls his hands up into fists, white-knuckled with anger. “GOD!” He paces the room, eyes staring straight ahead of him. 

I hate it when he gets like this. He did it a lot After it happened, but he hasn’t really been doing it since we got to the Creek. I guess it’s hard to get angry like this when your tongue’s in someone’s mouth. 

“Just because we’re having sex doesn’t mean we’re dating. Alaska-” 

“SHUT UP ABOUT ALASKA!” The Colonel stops pacing to glare at me. “Everything’s about Alaska. Alaska _this_ , Alaska _that_. GOD! She’s DEAD!” 

“Fuck you,” I mumble. I don’t want to cry. 

The Colonel shakes his head at me, anger burning in his eyes. “Yeah? Well, NOTHING’S GONNA BRING HER BACK,” the Colonel yells. “You can ‘love’ her all you want, but it’s not gonna bring her back to life. And fucking me isn’t gonna do that for you. So if that’s why you’re doing it, you can move the hell on.” 

I stand from the sofa. “I’m not doing it because I think you’re her. I’m doing it because I like you.” I open the door, glare at the Colonel, and slam it behind me. 

There really isn’t anywhere to go in the Creek that isn’t the Smoking Hole (where the Colonel pushed me into the dirt and we almost had sex) or the swing by the pond (where I spent time with Alaska and got bitten by the swan). Takumi’s room is an option, but I don’t know if I want to deal with someone who knows what’s happening with the Colonel and me. I pick the swing, not wanting to go to the Smoking Hole so soon. There's really nothing sadder than sitting alone on a swing next to a pond and watching a psychotic swan who's gotten a taste of your blood.

“Miles,” Lara’s soft voice says. She sits next to me on the swing, her small body hardly making a change. 

“Hi,” I say, still awkward around Lara and still mad at the Colonel. I’d rather not have Lara see me cry, too. 

“Takumi says that you are dating Cheep,” she says. 

I avoid looking at her. Does that make Takumi a rat now? I guess it doesn’t count as being a rat if it’s sharing a secret to one of your friends, or one of your friend’s friends, or some of your friend’s ex-girlfriends. Or maybe it does in the Colonel's weird, bitchy honor code. “Yeah, kinda.” 

“Don’t hurt heem, or Takumi weel have to hurt you.” Lara smiles her small, soft smile, shaping her gentle features. 

“Does it, like, bother you? That I’m-?”

Lara pushes her hair out of her eyes. “No. You beeeng gay ees not a problem. But- Cheep ees your freeend. Please do not date heem just because you want to forget Alaska.” 

I really made a mistake when I hurt Lara. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve met. Perceptive. Sweet, too. “Great breasts,” the Colonel said, and he was right, though I guess I shouldn't really be thinking about them, since I'm dating the Colonel now. If that argument wasn't actually a breakup. “I’m sorry,” I say. 

“I have forgeeven you already.” Lara smiles again. “I am happy for you.” 

“Thanks,” I say. I shift on the swing. I don’t want to talk about my new relationship problems with my ex-girlfriend, the one I had cheated on with a dead girl. The Colonel’s right: I’m an asshole sometimes. We do deserve each other. 

Lara knows how to break awkward pauses, the angel. “Takumi says you and Cheep had sex een front of heem.” 

-|-

I don’t come back to the dorm until about three, after I decide I’m too hungry and miserable in the Alabama heat to stay outside. The Colonel’s reading a book on the sofa, refusing to look at me. The room reeks of smoke. I take a cold shower. If the Colonel’s hellbent on giving me the silent treatment, then I’ll do the same to him.

It ends up with him reading on the sofa, and me reading on my bed, getting started early for religion II. I think we keep peeking over the top of our books at each other; I feel his eyes on me, even though I never see him looking at me. 

We sleep in different beds, me on my bottom bunk and the Colonel on the top. We don’t have sex. We don’t even look at each other. 

I didn’t think my senior year would begin like that. I mean, I did before I went to Culver Creek, but after that- even After her- and after the Colonel and I started sleeping together, I didn’t think I’d begin my year miserable and lonely. 

Takumi catches me between classes. “You look like shit,” he says, frank as ever. “What’s up with you and the Colonel?” 

“Thanks,” I say. I look at the ground. “Rough patch,” I mumble.

“He’s being an asshole?” Takumi bumps my shoulder with his. 

“Yeah,” I say. I rest my hands on my backpack straps.

Takumi shakes his head and takes an oatmeal cream pie from his backpack. “You got a study hall?”

“Period after next,” I say. 

“Damn,” Tankumi says. “Shitty schedules.” 

I hold the oatmeal cream pie, staring down at it. “You told Lara about us,” I say, turning the cream pie in my hands. “You told her about _me_.” 

Takumi sighs. “Look, I’m sorry about that. She- She just asked about you, and I wanted to talk about how gross you’ve been, and… Sorry.” 

I toss the cream pie between my hands, focusing on not dropping it while I walk instead of talking to Takumi. He stops walking. I stop, too. 

“I’m sorry, Miles,” Takumi says. 

I think about how shitty I was to Takumi After, making my grief the only one that mattered. I think about how shitty I was to Lara, not actually breaking up with her even though I’d never mentally dated her. I think about how shitty I was to the Colonel, for not grieving the way I was. I think about how shitty I was to Alaska, because she was never going to live up to the Alaska in my mind. I’ve been a shitty friend, and a shitty person. 

“It’s okay,” I mumble, even though I don't actually know if it is.

Takumi pats my backpack. “You gotta talk to him. He’s stubborn as hell, so if you’re trying to get _him_ to talk first, you’re gonna be waiting forever.” 

“Thanks,” I say. 

“It’s a pretty shitty way to start your senior year.” Takumi slings his arm around my shoulder. “Plus, the Colonel says the sex’s pretty good, so… maybe you’ll be less pissed off if you make up with him.” 

I push Takumi away. “That’s disgusting.” 

“I know! So stop talking about it and get to it, Pudge. Just not in front of me, though.” He pushes my shoulder, eyes crinkling at the corner. Yeah, I missed Takumi. 

-|-

“It’s bufriedo day,” I say when I open the door, taking in the now-usual sight of the Colonel sitting on the sofa and not looking up from his book. 

The Colonel grunts like he might’ve heard me, but it could also be an incidental grunt. 

“Come on. They’re _bufriedos_.” I sit next to him on the sofa. 

“Fuck off,” the Colonel says. 

I breathe in. “I’m sorry,” I say. 

The Colonel glances at me out of the corners of his eyes. I take that as an _okay, and?_ , and decide to give him the _and_ part. 

“I’m not dating you because I think you’re Alaska. I’m not dating you because I want you to _be_ Alaska. I’m dating you because…” I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret, or something I don’t 100% believe in. “I’m dating you because you’re the Colonel. You’re here for me.” 

He carefully marks the page of his book and sets it down on the COFFEE TABLE, but looks straight ahead. “Okay,” he says, deadpan. 

“And… I want to date you,” I say, "because I want to date _you_. Not because of her, or because I pity you, or anything.” 

The Colonel turns to me. “You’re an asshole,” he says. 

“And so are you,” I respond. 

He smiles at me. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re just a couple of sorry bitches, huh?” 

I shrug. 

“I fucked up. Shouldn’t’ve assumed you’d know what I was thinking.”

“Okay,” I say. 

“And I shouldn’t’ve said anything about Alaska.” 

“Okay,” I say. 

“So… sorry,” the Colonel says. He looks into my eyes for a moment. It’s times like this where I remember just how green his eyes are, when they’re not furrowed in anger or concentration. I almost lean in to kiss him. 

“Okay,” I say. 

The Colonel reaches out for my hand on the foamy sofa. I let him take it, let him link our fingers together. 

“I’m not having sex with you today,” I say. 

He cracks a smile that makes his eyes crinkle up in the corners. His hair is a mess, and he reeks of cigarette smoke, and the bags under his eyes are dark. “But soon?” 

“Maybe,” I say. 

“Okay,” he says. 

We sit on the sofa, holding hands but not speaking, for long enough that I almost wonder if the Colonel’s fallen asleep. 

“Guess we missed bufriedo day,” he says. I jump, not expecting the deep, deejay sound of his voice, dislodging my hand from his. 

“Guess we did,” I say.

The Colonel grips my hand again. “Let’s get some McDonald’s. I’m hungry as fuck.” 

“Have you been eating?” 

He shakes his head. “Just smoking and reading and going to class.” 

I sigh. “You have to start taking care of yourself,” I say. “If you want to date me. I have standards.”

“So you’re agreeing to date me,” the Colonel confirms. It should be a question, but it isn’t. The Colonel is too sure of everything he says and does to ask unnecessary questions when he knows the answers. 

“Yes,” I say. 

“So we’re boyfriends.” 

“Yes,” I say. 

“Awesome.” He stands from the sofa again, looking down at me for one of the first times in my life. “Now, let’s get us some McDonald’s.” 

-|-

I still have nightmares about her, dead-but-alive, talking to me and the Colonel. “Y'all're a cute couple,” she says tonight, blood dripping from her mouth, gray matter oozing from her skull. “Who would’ve thought y’all’d get together after I left?”

I wake up, sweaty and breathing heavy. 

“The fuck,” the Colonel mumbles sleepily. He shifts around in the bunk (mine- the times we tried sleeping on the top bunk ended in me almost concussing myself on the ceiling). “Nightmare?”

“You could say that,” I mumble. 

“Mm,” the Colonel mumbles back. “Alaska?”

“Yeah.” I rub my face and prop myself up against the pillows. If I close my eyes for too long, I can see her dead face, more decayed and horrific by the minute, grinning at me from the darkness the same way she always used to when she was alive. 

“C’mon.” The Colonel sits up with me, pulling me close to him. All the animosity of the past few days is gone, replaced by the kind of concern he’d pretend to be above in the daytime. The Colonel, for all his tough-guy bravado, can be soft and gentle, and if anyone else knows, even the Old Man’s religion class wouldn’t be able to save them. “Let’s go back to sleep.” 

I take deep breaths, trying to control my breathing. It’d be easier if I hadn’t picked up a smoking habit. “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Gimme a little bit.” 

The Colonel kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck, lips all over me, hands wandering. “If you don’t wanna sleep, I can keep you awake.” 

“I used to dream about having sex with her,” I admit, voice raw. I scrabble for one of the Colonel’s hands, holding it in a vice. “She was naked and dead. I’d make out with her. It was…” I make a face, completely invisible in the darkness of the room, not mentioning her dying on top of me. 

“Yeah?” 

“I- I guess it was my conscience making me feel guilty. Because of what happened Before.” The night Before the After is burned into my memory forever, all the details in perfect recollection. My mind loves to torture me with it. 

The Colonel grunts. “What happened was fucked up.” 

“I know,” I say. 

“It wasn’t just your fault,” the Colonel says. 

“I know,” I say. 

The Colonel pulls me closer instead of pushing me away. “I can distract you,” he offers again. 

I say: “Okay.” 

He says: “You’re not gonna freak out, right?” 

I say: “No.”

He kisses my throat again. He guides me to lay down again. He straddles me, stretching out while his hands slide under my clothes. He puts his hands on me, and- 

I say: “Fuck, Chip.” 

I say: “Oh my God.” 

I say: “More more more.” 

He says: “If you don’t start being quiet, we’re gonna get caught.” 

I don’t think about Alaska. I don’t really think about anything, except the Colonel, and _fuck fuck fuck_ , and then nothing but bliss. 

“How was that?” The Colonel kisses me some more, rubbing his thumb against my sharp hip. I’m almost scared it’ll cut his finger open. 

“Mm, good.” I close my eyes and kiss him back. 

“Good.” The Colonel slips our mouths together, rubbing his tongue alongside mine, both his thumbs rubbing my hip bones now. I think I could go again, but then the Colonel speaks again: “Now, go the fuck to sleep, Pudge.” 

I yawn against him. “Thanks, Chip.” 

The Colonel grunts again, sliding off me to snuggle up against my side, breathing against my neck. I fall asleep easily, blissed out and comfortable, even in the hot, heavy, humid room. 

-|-

“Things are back to normal,” I tell Takumi, slipping him a cigarette as a _thank you_. 

“Hell yeah,” Takumi says, taking the cigarette from me. “Do me another favor, though.” 

“Okay,” I say, with a vague idea of what he’s going to suggest. 

“Don’t fuck him in front of me.” 

I make a _shit, sorry_ face that I probably inherited from Alaska or the Colonel (or both) and shove my hands in the pockets of my basketball shorts. 

Takumi groans and leaves for his next class. 

-|-

Things go back to normal, or back to as normal as it gets when you’re dating your roommate/best friend. We smoke and hang out with Takumi. The Colonel does a piss-poor job at tutoring me in math. Lara smiles at me in the hallway and asks me how I’m doing. I avoid the Eagle as much as I can, scared of accidentally spewing out my secrets to him. Alaska’s presence is there, but not overwhelming anymore. And we have sex. Lots and lots of sex. More than I’ve ever thought I’d have.

-|-

The night we go all the way (or, as Alaska would say, “the night Pudge becomes a man”) is surprisingly normal. The Colonel’s drinking Ambrosia, as he does on weekend nights, and I’m taking disgusting sips from the milk jug, cringing at the taste. 

“You know,” the Colonel says, turning to me, “you don’t have to drink it if you don’t think it tastes good.” 

“I wanna get drunk,” I mumble. 

“Good luck,” the Colonel says. 

“That’s what you say about me swallowing,” I say, a little more tipsy than I previously thought I’d been. “‘You don’t have to swallow if you don’t think it tastes good’.” 

I’d become a self-appointed blowjob expert, not just from Dr. Alaska Young’s seminar. This was personal experience speaking. Personal experience I gained from blowing the Colonel. 

“Jesus,” the Colonel says. 

“But I swallow ‘cuz it makes you feel good.” I lean against his side. 

“Ain’t you just the sweetest lil thing,” the Colonel says in an accent. 

I swat at his arm. “I’m serious.” 

“That’s pretty hot, Pudge. You’re gettin’ me nice and bothered before the buzz even ends.” 

I let my hand wander down to his thigh and stroke it just like he strokes mine. Stroking someone’s thigh is nice. I understand why the Colonel does it all the time. “You’re hot,” I say. 

The Colonel sets the jug of ambrosia onto the COFFEE TABLE. “You know what’s hot?” He pulls me into his lap, his hands resting above the waistband of my shorts. “Those sounds you make.” He breathes them into my ear, breathy and pornographic in the best way possible. I think back to the mental notes I took when I watched porn with Alaska, even though she told me I shouldn’t be paying any attention to it. 

“You’re going to-” 

“What, get you goin’? Newsflash, Pudge: that’s the point.” The Colonel nibbles my ear, which I never thought would be sexy, but here we are. 

I relax against the Colonel, melting into his warmth despite the suffocating heat of the room. After a while, you start to decide on what’s really important in your life. Between the Colonel and not sweating my balls off, I pick the Colonel. “You’re doing a good job,” I say. 

“Thanks,” he says. Then: “I want to have sex with you.” 

I say: “I thought we’ve been having sex.” 

“No,” he says. “All the way sex.” 

I say: “Oh.” 

He says: “I’m not gonna make you ‘less you wanna.” 

I say: “Tonight?” 

He says: “Preferably, yeah. But whenever. Eventually.” 

I say: “I’ve never…” 

He says: “Uncharted territory?” 

I nod. 

He says: “Yeah, me too.” 

I say: “You didn’t get drunk and fool around with Takumi?” 

He flicks my nose. “God no, Pudge. I don’t ‘get drunk and fool around’.” 

I can name a couple incidents where the Colonel has gotten drunk off ambrosia and tried to fool around, but I don’t think being right is the most important thing right now. “What’re you doing right now, then?” 

“Gettin’ ready to have sex with my boyfriend. What’re _you_ doin’ right now?” 

“I-” 

“The right answer is ‘me’, by the way.” 

I stare at him. The Colonel’s always been pretty incorrigible, but tonight he’s being especially ornery. It’s all the ambrosia’s fault. And mine, for mentioning blowjobs. “What if I don’t say that?” 

“Wrong answer,” the Colonel breathes against my neck. I shiver, cold in the humid Alabama night. For something I’ve been waiting on my entire teenage experience, I’m still apprehensive. I can’t stop thinking about how I almost did this with Alaska, what happened after our almost-hookup. We were both drunk then, too. Maybe we’re not drunk _now_ , but I’m buzzed enough. The Colonel’s buzzed enough. 

I think: _fuck it_.

I think: _it’s been long enough_.

I think: _uncharted territory_.

I say: “Okay.” 

He says: “Awesome,” and pushes me onto the couch. 

The last time I did this, we didn’t get any further than just the kissing and wandering hands and a little bit of dry humping, but I don’t think I’m gonna have that problem this time. Namely, because 1. we’re dating, 2. it’s a Friday night, and 3. it’s been long enough of “having sex” without actually having sex. 

The Colonel’s hands go under my shirt, then unzips my zipper. And then-

I say: “Oh my God.” 

He says: “Chip’s fine.” 

I say: “You’re an asshole.” 

He says: “Speaking of assholes,” and his fingers-

“God,” I whimper.

“If you’re not quiet, we’re gonna get caught. So shut. The fuck. Up.” 

I nod, biting down on my hand so I don’t scream. It’s uncharted territory, being explored for the first time. 

I don’t say: _I think I love you_.

I don’t say: _I think I want to spend the rest of my life like this_.

I _do_ say: "Oh my God."

The Colonel says: "Shh."

-|-

We were so lucky Takumi 1. has a car, 2. looks like an adult, and 3. has a fake ID, or else we’d have to outsource our cigarettes. Also, there’s 4., he lets the Colonel and I sit in the backseat together while he goes inside for the cigarette haul. Cosa Liquors, for all your spiritual needs, is still sketchy as hell, so they let Takumi buy his body weight in cigarettes. Good for us. 

I crawl over the Colonel, making him lie down against the seats, and let him lead the way into makeout station, population two. 

Takumi gags when he comes back to find us making out in the backseat. 

“You let us back here in the first place,” the Colonel points out, voice rough. 

“I didn’t think you’d ruin the sanctity of my car. Only _I_ get to do that.” 

Shit, I hadn’t even though about Takumi hooking up in the backseat. The only thing that kills a boner faster than the thought of your friend having sex in the same place as you is the Eagle. 

“Too fucking bad, Takumi.” The Colonel moves his hand from the back of my knee to the back of my thigh. It makes me realize I’m still crouched over him, one of his thighs almost against my penis. It’s a compromising position at best, and pornographic at worst. Thank God we’re experts at making out fully-clothed. 

“We had a deal, man,” Takumi says to me. I look away. 

“Damn,” the Colonel says. “Get off me, Pudge. Dictator Takumi says you can’t give me a boner.” 

“Don’t be an asshole. I let you into my car, I buy you cigarettes-” 

“ _We_ buy cigarettes from _you_ ,” the Colonel corrects. 

“- I let you fuck in front of me-” 

“Bullshit,” the Colonel refutes. 

“I’m leaving you here,” Takumi threatens. 

I crawl out of the Colonel’s lap, giving him a quick, chaste kiss. “Stop arguing. I don’t want to be stuck walking back.” 

“Listen to your boyfriend,” Takumi says, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car. 

The Colonel leans against my side, tilting himself up. I tilt my head to the side so he can whisper to me. “When we get back, I’m going to-” he starts describing what he’s going to do to me with details that would make Takumi pull over and kick us onto the side of the road. I focus on not moaning on the entire drive back. 

“I’m never taking you guys to get smokes again,” Takumi complains, parking his car. 

“Sorry,” I say, too focused on my penis to really care right now.

“Keep it in your pants next time.” Takumi says. 

“We’ll try,” the Colonel says. He takes my hand and drags me out the door. “Bring us our cigarettes in an hour.” 

“Fifteen minutes?” 

The Colonel glares at him. “That’s so goddamn funny, I forgot to laugh.” 

“Must’ve lost your sense of humor when you got your boner. Blood went from the funny part of your brain to your dick.” 

I laugh quietly. 

“An hour,” the Colonel says. 

“Don’t hold hands. It’s Eagle-bait.” 

The Colonel lets go of my hand. “Thanks.” 

“Your room. Forty-five minutes.” 

“An- you know what? Sure. Forty-five.” He looks at me. “C’mon, Pudge. We got things to do.” 

“Use protection,” Takumi calls after us. 

“He thinks he’s so goddamn funny,” the Colonel mumbles. “I’m funny as shit, even when I’m hard as hell.” 

Not willing to ruin my chances of getting laid after the Colonel’s descriptions of exactly what he’s going to do to me, I nod along. 

-|-

The Colonel sticks to his promises. After what we did, I really don’t want to take a dribbling shower, but the Colonel physically pushes me out of the bottom bunk with a mumbled “don’t make me come in there after you”. It’s less of a threat and more of an almost promise, and I tell him that, only for him to give me his own Look of Doom and shake his head. The closest I get to the Colonel joining me is him shoving a towel under the door and taking out a cigarette.

I’m in the shower when I hear the Eagle's three sharp knocks at the door. The Colonel says _“shit”_ and stops trying to light his cigarette.

I eavesdrop on the conversation from the shower. It’s easy, because the dribble of the shower stream makes almost exactly zero noise. 

“Hello, sir. What do I owe this visit to?” 

“I heard a few strange noises coming from your room.” 

I can imagine the Colonel shrugging. “I don’t know much ‘bout strange noises, unless you’re talkin’ ‘bout Miles yellin’ ‘bout losing video games, sir.” 

“And Mr. Halter is in the shower?” 

“Yessir,” the Colonel says. “He’s real bad with the Alabama heat, you know. Sweats like a wh- sweats like there’s no tomorrow, sir.” 

I should be pissed that the Colonel’s talking about me behind my back, but right now, I’m more concerned about 1. the room smelling like sex instead of just sweat, 2. the Eagle seeing right through the Colonel’s (convincing) lies, and 3. the fact that I’m so badly-acclimated to the Alabama heat that everyone knows I sweat all the time, in that order. 

“Are you sure this is what’s happened?” 

“Yessir,” the Colonel says. 

“You’ve been doing well this year, Mr. Martin. It would be a shame if you were to get into some big trouble.” 

“Miles does a good job of keepin’ me outta trouble,” the Colonel says. “That, and it _is_ senior year. It’s a lotta work, sir.” 

“I’m sure a young man like you is more than able to succeed.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Have a good day, Mr. Martin. Tell Mr. Halter not to get too involved in those games of yours.” 

“Will do, sir. Have a good day too, sir.” I can see the Colonel’s charming smile, even though I can’t see his face. 

The door to the room closes, and the door to the bathroom opens. “I,” the Colonel says, “just saved us, ‘cuz _your_ skinny ass forgot we weren’t the only goddamn people in this school.”

“You weren’t complaining,” I say. 

He opens up the shower curtain. It isn’t the first time he’s seen me naked (roommates turned friends turned boyfriends- you see everything, whether you want it seen or not), but that doesn’t stop me from trying to cover myself. 

The Colonel whistles. “Damn, Pudge. Lookin’ good.” 

“Did you just open the curtain to ogle me?” 

“I was gonna look you in the eyes, but I think the oglin’ option’s pretty nice, now.” 

“Not after that,” I say. “You’re in trouble for almost getting us in trouble.” 

The Colonel cocks his head to the side. “Hey, _I’m_ not the one who forgot we have to _stay quiet_.” 

“Maybe you should gag me,” I challenge. 

“I didn’t know you thought that was hot, Pudge. You got ideas I don’t know about?” 

I push him away. “Gross,” I say. “Let me finish showering, since I ‘sweat like there’s no tomorrow’.” 

“Well, I figured saying ‘a whore in church’ in front of the Eagle was a bad idea.” He shrugs, then walks away. “You better get dressed when you’re finished, ‘cuz Takumi’s gonna be here any minute, and he isn’t gonna be happy if you got your dick out.” 

With a towel wrapped around my waist, I bend down to give the Colonel a kiss before getting some clothes. 

-|- 

I use the excuse that I’m tired of cafeteria food to get the Colonel to walk to McInedible for a while different fried food experience. That, and privacy. No one has ever said McInedible is the ideal date destination, but this McInedible feels like the most romantic place on Earth, just because there are booths to hide in. 

“Are you trying to romance me, Pudge?” The Colonel slides into into the most private booth in the McInedible, shielded from the nosy eyes of everyone else, and pats the seat next to him for me to sit down. Our friends might be okay with our gay relationship, but that doesn’t mean the rest of Alabama’s okay with it.

I sit next to him and set the tray of fries onto the table. 

The Colonel looks around and kisses me, then drinks some of the milkshake we’d splurged on. He kisses me again, fast enough it takes me a moment to realize I’ve been kissed. “Consider me romanced.” 

“Really?” My heart does a complicated movement in my chest. I didn’t feel this with Lara, but I did with Alaska; that apprehensive, fluttery feeling that could be described with Three Little Words. Not that I’d say them. Not yet. 

“Yeah, Pudge. I’m impressed.” 

Skeptical, I lean closer. “I can borrow Takumi’s car and take you somewhere nice.” 

“What, to the opera? No-fucking-thank-you.” The Colonel leans back in the booth. “This’s great. You, me, fries, and shake. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Pudge.” 

“It’s better than hanging out in the room.” 

“Guess having sex all the time’s a little boring after a while.” The Colonel holds my hand under the table, shoving fries in his mouth with the other. “So, yeah. This’s a good date.” 

The Colonel kisses me again, his fry hand sliding into my hair. 

“You’re getting salt in my hair,” I say, letting him kiss me again. 

“Hm,” the Colonel says. He lets go of me to eat. 

“I didn’t say stop,” I say, trying not to sound pathetic and clingy. 

“McDonald’s fries are best hot.” The Colonel takes a couple fries from the tray and slides them between my lips like a cigarette. “It’s our anniversary,” he says. “You know, if you’re keeping track of that.”

He caught me. I didn’t want to mention it, in case he made fun of me for being a sap, and also because a date at McInedible isn’t exactly a good anniversary gift. If my parents went to McInedible for their wedding anniversary, I’d prepare myself for news of their eminent divorce. 

“I… do.” 

“So, happy anniversary, Pudge. I’m real glad you decided to fuck me, ‘cuz if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have such a kick-ass boyfriend.” The Colonel kisses me some more, pulling me close. 

I say: “Happy Anniversary.” 

I say: “I like you a lot.” 

I say: “We’re still at McDonald’s.” 

The Colonel says: “Fuck them. If they don’t like us, it’s their goddamn problem.” 

I smile at him. I still don’t have the same sense of “fuck the man” as the Colonel does and Alaska did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t find it hot, because I do. The Colonel holds me to his side with an arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple before going back to eating fries. 

“Let’s eat, go to the dorm, and-” 

“Have sex?” 

The Colonel cracks a smile. “Lots and lots of hot gay sex.” He shoves fries in his mouth. 

-|-

“Are you coming to Thanksgiving this year?” The Colonel doesn’t look away from the dinky tv, smashing buttons and kicking my ass. 

“Go to Thanksgiving with you and your mom?” I glance at him for a second. 

“Yup.” 

“As your friend, or as your boyfriend?”

The Colonel breathes in deeply and pauses the game. He turns to me. “I haven’t told her yet.”

I can’t be angry about that because I haven’t told my parents about our relationship. When I think about telling my parents, I have to think about telling them that 1. I am dating my roommate, who 2. is a guy, which 3. makes me bisexual. They’d cry and hug me and tell me they’ll always accept and love me. Which is nice, but I don’t want to tell them before I have to. 

“I’ll tell her,” the Colonel says, taking my silence as judgement. “I think she should know. It’s been long enough.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m not going to make you.” 

“Well, I think I should tell her why my roommate’s sleeping in my bed.” The Colonel grins at me. I lean in for a kiss. 

“Do you really think she’ll let your boyfriend sleep in the same bed as you?” 

The Colonel shrugs. “She let you and Alaska share a bed. I figure- ‘cuz neither of us can get pregnant or nothing-, she won’t have a cow ‘bout it.” 

“What about the liking guys thing?” I know my parents would accept me, but the thought of Dolores not approving of the Colonel’s dating a man (not even dating me, just a man, any man) breaks my heart. I’d probably break up with the Colonel immediately if I knew it’d save his relationship with his mother. 

“My mom loves me too much to not be okay with the liking guys thing.” 

“I mean, are you going to say, ‘mom, do you remember my roommate, Miles? I’m dating him now. Can’t wait to eat your cooking’?”

The Colonel laughs. “Sure. Sounds good.” 

I shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“What? It sounds _great_.” The Colonel smiles at me and pulls me close to him. “You better be ready for awkward talks. She wants the best for me.” 

“Did Sara ever meet your mom?” I blurt out before I can think about what I’m saying. 

“Does it matter?” 

I like the thought of being the first of the Colonel’s dates he’s brought home. Or, at least, the first person he’s slept with. It’s the same kind of possessiveness that I felt when I asked him if he’d had sex with Takumi. 

“I didn’t, okay? She was a bitch, and- God, why are you so insecure?” 

I stare at my controller. 

“Fine. Don’t answer. I don’t care.” The Colonel picks up his controller and presses play, still leaning against my side, even though he’s pissed off. 

-|-

I call my parents about Thanksgiving. 

“Miles?” My mom still always sounds concerned when I call, like this time it’ll be the news of my death she’s being told about. 

“Hi, mom,” I say. I tell her about how things have been and listen to her talk about life in Florida. It’s times like this that I miss her and my dad the most. “Mom?” 

She sounds concerned again. “What is it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” I say. “I think- I’m going to stay at the Creek with Chip again this year.” I don’t mention that 1. I’m going to his Thanksgiving with his mom, and 2. that the reason I’m staying with him for Thanksgiving is because we’re dating. 

She makes a little noise and talks about cranberry sauce again, but agrees to “let you have your senior year with your friend”. It feels like a lie, but it isn’t. The Colonel is still my friend. It's just that I didn't define what type of _friend_ he is.

I let her talk for a while before telling her I have to go. She makes me promise to call her more often. 

“I’m going to Thanksgiving with you,” I say to the Colonel when I walk into the room. 

“Good. I’ll tell mom to make extra food.” 

-|-

The Colonel’s mom is going to pick us up. I can’t stop jumping at every sound, scared that I’ll see the disapproving glare of my boyfriend’s mom, even though I can’t really imagine Dolores glaring at me. 

“You’re freaking out too much,” the Colonel says. He comes over to sit next to me on the sofa. “It’s my mom. She loves you.” 

I lean into his side. 

“You’re so stressed, you’re gonna give yourself a fucking heart attack before I can even say ‘this’s my boyfriend, Pudge’.” He shakes his head at me. “You gotta calm the hell down.” His hands rest on my shoulders so he can look me in the eyes. 

I take in deep breaths to calm myself. 

“There.” He leans his forehead against mine. “So STAY CALM.” 

I nod. 

“C’mere.” He kisses me fast. “There’ll be more of that later.” 

I like the way that sounds, so I steal another from him. Kissing the Colonel is like smoking a pack of cigarettes, or running from the Eagle. It’s exhilarating. 

“Later,” he says, like a promise. 

Alaska said: “To be continued?” 

I swallow. 

It’s a little longer before there’s a knock on the door and the Colonel’s mom walks in. He springs up from the sofa to hug her. 

“And here’s Miles again.” Dolores smiles at me like she’s never been so happy to see anyone in her life. 

“Mom,” the Colonel says, voice the sort of serious that commands people to listen. I shift on the sofa. “This is Miles, my-” he clears his throat. “My boyfriend. Miles Halter.” 

I thought it was bad when the Colonel kept telling Takumi about our sex life, but that’s nothing compared to this, the gut-wrenching fear of what could happen. I stand from the sofa and stick my hand out for a handshake.

Dolores continues looking at me, then smiles, pulling me in for a hug. “You never told me you’d found someone, Chip.” 

The Colonel rubs the back of his neck nervously. 

“Have you been treating my boy right?” Dolores looks up into my eyes. 

“I, um-” 

“Yes, mom,” the Colonel says. “He treats me right.” He avoids my eyes. I think about the phrase “treating my boy right” and everything it could mean. I think about what the Colonel said to Takumi about the sex being good. I think about what I didn’t have/almost had with Alaska, how it felt so bad/good. 

Two weeks ago, the Colonel sat in my lap on the sofa for a change, grinding down on me until I came in my pants like I would’ve last year. The next week, he gave me my second-ever blow job. 

“What was that about?” I’d asked. 

“You do this shit for me.” The Colonel rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth, cringing at the taste of cum in his mouth. “Wanted t’do it for you.” 

Even though the Colonel was on his knees with my cum on his face, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. That, and the hottest. 

Dolores looks over at her son. “Well, I’m glad ya told me ‘fore I found out on my own.” 

The Colonel looks away. “We weren’t gonna-” 

“That dog don’t hunt, boy,” Dolores says, the second time in my life I’ve heard that phrase. “I know what two teenagers get up to. ‘Specially if they’re livin’ together like the two’a you.” She gives us a knowing look. No wonder the Colonel’s so sneaky all the time. “Now, how’s ‘bouts we get goin’ so you can tell me all ‘bout this boy’a yours.” 

After lugging our stuff to the car, the Colonel and I get in the backseat. Unlike in Takumi’s car, we sit at opposite sides, holding hands in the middle. Dolores didn’t tell us to keep our hands where she can see them (something Takumi’s started doing since the Cosa Liquors incident), but we still do. 

Dolores asks us questions about our relationship, skirting around the topic of sex with grace. When we get to the trailer and unload, Dolores tells us to make ourselves comfortable. 

The Colonel collapses onto his bed, reaching out for me. I lie next to him. “See? It wasn’t bad, Pudge.’ 

“It wasn’t,” I agree, closing my eyes at the comfortable weight of him next to me. 

He pushes himself up against me. Not like he does when we have sex, but like when we sleep in the bottom bunk. “When she leaves for the store we can-” he describes what we’ll do. “But I’m fucking tired right now.” 

I nod against him, then slowly fall asleep. 

-|-

Not sneaking around is really nice. At the Creek, there’s always someone to see you, someone to avoid. The Eagle, Madame O’Malley, the Old Man and the rest of the teachers- if they knew, we’d be moved to different rooms. The Weekday Warriors would probably rat on us just to get the Colonel in trouble. Otherwise, the Colonel would’ve made out with me in front of Sara. Takumi’s already seen too much, even though the Colonel likes to mess with him. Lara doesn’t need to see what Takumi has. 

Dolores knows what we’ve probably gotten up to (which she’s probably right about), and I don’t think she cares, as long as we don’t do it in front of her. Which means we can hold hands and kiss, cuddle on the couch part of the couch bed, and have sex when she leaves. 

And Dolores’ cooking still puts Maureen’s to shame. 

I tell the Colonel this between heavy breaths. 

He laughs and pushes some of my sweaty hair out of my eyes. “You’re awful damn sappy today.” 

“Let me be. Just once.” 

“I let you get sappy every time.” He shoves my shoulder.

I sigh. “Chip,” I whine. 

“God, what? I’m trying to afterglow here.” 

“Do you- I treat you right, right?” 

The Colonel looks at me. “Really?” 

I look away from him. Everything in the trailer makes me think of him. “Don’t worry. It’s stupid.” 

“You’re seriously worried,” he says.

I nod. 

“Yeah. You treat me right, okay? You treat me real good. And I don’t mean just the sex.” The Colonel rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t wanna say it now, ‘cuz last time I said it- you know what happened with Sara. She was a bitch.” 

I assume “it” is the Three Little Words we haven’t said yet. Him because of Sara and me because of Alaska. I can’t stop thinking it, but I never say it. He thinks it, too.

“Oh,” I say. 

The Colonel sits up and jams a cigarette in his mouth. “Whatever,” he says, lighting it. “Yeah. Yeah, you treat me good.” 

“I think it, too,” I say. 

He smiles at me around the cigarette and offers me the pack. “Want one?” 

I take one from him. 

-|-

Dolores sends the Colonel to the grocery store. I sit on the couch sofa with Alaska’s copy of _The General and His Labyrinth_ , leafing through it randomly. Dolores smokes a cigarette.

“You like my boy,” Dolores says. 

I snap my head up to look at her. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“You like him an awful lot?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. I flip through the book for something to do with my hands. 

Dolores looks at me. “You liked that Alaska girl an awful lot, too.” 

I look down at Alaska’s water-smudged handwriting. “I did.” 

“You’re not usin’ my Chip t’get over her, are you?” 

I almost drop the book. “No,” I say. 

Dolores gives me a scrutinizing look, like she’s rifling through my soul like a file cabinet. It’s a look only moms seem to possess. She smokes her cigarette leisurely. “D’you love him?” 

I think: _It’s only been two months._

I think: _I can’t tell his mom I love him before I tell him._

I think: _Fuck it._

I say: “Yes, ma’am.” 

Dolores gives me that look again. “Chip is my boy. I’d do anythin’ for ‘im. You know that, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. 

“And if you hurt my boy…” she doesn’t need to speak, just smokes her cigarette and watches me. I can see the Colonel in her face. 

“I’m not going to hurt him. I swear.” 

I’m telling the truth, too. Hurting the Colonel sucks. After everything with Alaska, we had each other, and I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt him. He’s right when he says the sex is good, but that isn’t the only thing that’s good. I want to say those Three Little Words to the Colonel. 

“You’re good for him,” Dolores says. “He’s- well, after that Alaska passed, he wasn’t doin’ real good. Even the summer, he was real tore up. But now… now he’s actin’ more like himself again. He seems happy.” Dolores smiles, eyes far away. 

I close the book. 

“Miles, you’ve been doin’ a lotta good.” Dolores smiles at me and rests her hand on my shoulder. “You got my blessin’ to date my Chip, though I know you don’t need it.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say. 

“Dolores.” 

“Thank you, Dolores,” I say.

“Now, let’s best not talk ‘bout this to chip. He don’t gotta know I’m so damn worried ‘bout ‘im. He’s a sweet boy. It’ll tear ‘im up if he knew I was a-worryin’.” Dolores puts out her cigarette. 

-|-

“Oh my God,” I breathe. “That was- wow.” 

“Yeah?” The Colonel lights a cigarette, giving me that self-satisfied, cocky grin. Dolores said he’s acting like himself again. I really think she’s right. No one knows the Colonel like his mother does. Until we started dating, I hadn’t realized how much I missed that asshole smile. I hadn’t even noticed it’d disappeared until it came back. 

“Yeah,” I say, joining him in smoking. 

The Colonel rests his hand on my chest, stroking my sternum. 

I think the Three Little Words, but don’t say them. Maybe I’ll never need to. Maybe I’ll never get the balls. 

-|-

When we get back to the Creek, I can't stop thinking about Colores’s words, the Colonel, and the Three Little Words. I keep taking notes in religions and French, but all I can think about is the Colonel, not Judaism or verb tenses. 

Adjusting to hiding everything is weird. It was just a little bit of freedom, but being able to date the Colonel out in the open was nice, and going back to hiding stuff sucks. 

We watch the Culver Creek Nothings get their asses kicked with our hands overlapped between us, his hand on my forearm when we get kicked out. The Colonel rubs his foot up my leg at the cafeteria. On bufriedo day, his moans of satisfaction are on _this_ side of orgasmic. We share the bottom bunk every night, muffling our noises. 

Takumi continues making exaggerated gagging noises when we all hang out, and Lara says stuff like “eet ees cute, Takumi, stop gaggeeng”. 

I call my parents. “Hey, mom,” I say. “Do you mind if I bring someone home for Christmas?” 

My mom sounds so excited, like she’s won the lottery. She calls my dad over and tells him the good news. After they reassure me that it is 100% okay to bring someone home for Christmas, they start pressing me for details. 

“Wait until Christmas,” I say. Then: “Bye!” 

The Colonel’s reading from a textbook, hardly looking up at me. “What was that?” 

“Do you want to come to Christmas with me?” 

He shrugs. “Yeah. Sure.” 

“Cool,” I say. I sit next to him. His hand rests on my thigh, closer to my penis than my knee. “Hey,” I say. 

“What?” 

“I- nevermind.” 

The Colonel grunts and flips a page in his textbook. 

“I-” I look down at his hand on my thigh. “I love you.” 

The Colonel looks up at me and shoves his textbook shut. I hardly have time to think about how I ruined this relationship by saying the Three Little Words before he flattens me against the couch and goes at it like that day at the Smoking Hole. 

A few minutes later, sweating and panting, the Colonel makes out with me until he has to breathe. I blink at him blankly until he talks. “If it wasn’t obvious, that’s an ‘I love you, too’.” 

“Oh,” I say. “Cool,” I say. 

The Colonel kisses me some more. “So, meeting your parents, huh?” 

I nod. 

“Fuck,” he says. “Do I gotta wear a tie?” 

I shake my head. 

“Awesome.” The Colonel tucks himself against me. 

“I love you,” I say, just to say it. 

“I love you, too.” 

I said the Three Little Words, and the world didn’t crash and burn. The Colonel isn’t going to go anywhere. He isn’t going to run off and die. This is after the After, after everything that happened last year. It feels weird, but not the bad kind of weird. It’s the good kind of weird that growth brings.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a story behind this one. I like to read _Looking for Alaska_ while it rains (weird habit, I know), and it rained a lot in 2019, which meant I read it about three times. That's the mindset I was in when my WiFi went out because of rain-related reasons for about two weeks during early December 2019. During that time, I hand-wrote 23 pages of _Looking for Alaska_ fanfiction entirely for myself, though upon realizing it was actually semi-decent, I typed it up as soon as the WiFi was fixed. I spent a couple months editing it, and here we are, publishing _Looking for Alaska_ fanfiction in February 2020. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I also made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Ieyv8UMrrDafbUgI3Qar5?si=4SmrBIjeQ1WVF0eznvK9nA) that is entirely tangential to the plot and only exists to "set the mood" of friends-to-lovers.


End file.
